


In Love With The Shape Of You

by SKJC



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 00:02:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11001756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SKJC/pseuds/SKJC
Summary: Otabek is very, very pleased with Yuri's post-growth-spurt body.





	In Love With The Shape Of You

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I'm posting 2 things in one day?
> 
> Explanation: I've been working simultaneously on a bunch of stuff and I was very, very motivated by the release of the full version of WTTM!

It was approaching the end of another year, which brought the start of another Grand Prix Final, and Otabek was unusually anxious. Not about the competition, not particularly - he’d been doing this long enough that nerves weren’t a major issue anymore - but because he hadn’t seen Yuri in months. 

It had been a hectic offseason for both of them, with other obligations like ice shows and training camps that had kept them apart, and then they’d been assigned different Grand Prix qualifiers. As a result, they’d been conducting their relationship over video chat, phone calls, and text messages since right after Worlds and Yuri’s birthday. 

Otabek knew perfectly well that Yuri had gotten quite a bit taller over the months since they’d last been together. He’d spent the entire summer complaining about the troubles his sudden growth had come with on every available social media outlet, after all, and Otabek had watched the grainy internet livestreams of his qualifying competitions. However, actually seeing it in person was a shock. Selfies on Instagram and low-quality video had not prepared Otabek for how different Yuri actually looked when he appeared at the door of Otabek’s hotel room the first night they were both in the same city again.

Otabek had to look up at him for the first time ever - _he has to be at least as tall as Victor by now,_ he thought - and his hair was longer than his Instagram photos had shown, the messy French braid hanging down well past his shoulders with wispy strands framing his face. His shoulders and chest had broadened slightly, evidenced by the fact that the team jacket he wore now looked about a half-size too small, but his waist and hips were still as slim as always. Otabek’s mind helpfully supplied him with an image of his own hands gripping the pale skin of those hips hard enough to bruise. 

“Are you going to let me in or what?” Yuri said, a hint of amusement in his voice and a half-smirk gracing his face. “I know it’s been a while but we’ve been on Skype practically every week.”

“I didn’t realize just how tall you’d gotten,” Otabek replied, feeling like that was a lame excuse, but he moved aside slightly so Yuri could enter the room and let the door shut behind him. His eyes were drawn to the curve of Yuri’s ass as he passed by, and he swallowed reflexively. Even that looked different, firmer and just a little more rounded, and he fucking loved it. 

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Yuri’s expression turned to a scowl as he turned and sat down heavily on the closer of the beds, and then kicked his shoes off. “It sucks.”

“You won both of your qualifiers,” Otabek pointed out, “so I’m not sure why you’re so mad about it. If anything, your skating is even more beautiful now.” It was true - the power from his increased muscle mass had given extra height and distance to his jumps, and his spins looked even more impressive with his longer body.

“You can’t come up with a better adjective than ‘beautiful’?” Yuri sat back against the headboard of the bed and stretched his impossibly long legs out in front of him before he unzipped his jacket and dropped it on the floor, exposing the equally under-sized t-shirt he had on under it.  

Otabek shrugged, a dumb grin on his face as he took in the sight, briefly imagining peeling the tight shirt off Yuri’s chest. “It applies,” he said simply, and sat down on the bed as well. “And just so you know, you could really stand to buy more clothes that actually fit you. Everything being skin-tight is very distracting.” In addition to the shirt being too small, the track pants Yuri wore clung to his hips and thighs in a very alluring way. 

 

“Oh really?” Yuri smirked as he met Otabek’s gaze. “At least there’s something good about this damned growth spurt nonsense in that case.” He slid down from his seated position so that he was laying down on the bed, and raised one arm to put a hand behind his head, drawing Otabek’s eyes to the flat planes of his chest. “So, can you snap out of your distraction long enough to kiss me or are you just going to stare all night?”

“I can probably do that,” Otabek replied, and swung his legs up onto the bed so that he could lay down as well. He brushed some of the loose strands of hair away from Yuri’s face and stroked his cheek affectionately, and he smiled when Yuri leaned into the touch with a soft sigh, eyes fluttering closed. “Beautiful,” he repeated, and kissed him gently, lips just barely parted, which Yuri quickly took advantage of to deepen the kiss into something more passionate. 

One of Otabek’s hands moved down to Yuri’s chest as their tongues entwined, hot and brilliant, making him feel giddy with the excitement of it. Yuri whimpered softly into his mouth as he stroked over one nipple through the fabric, but there was something odd about it.

“Yura, did you get your nipples pierced?” Otabek asked incredulously, breaking off the kiss in shock. 

Yuri’s face took on a lazy grin and he arched his chest up against Otabek’s hand just a bit. “Yeah, it hurt like hell but it was worth it to watch Yakov lose his shit when he noticed. I said nobody but you would be looking that closely at my chest. That pissed him off more, it was great.” He punctuated the sentence with a short laugh. 

“Oh my god.” Otabek ducked his head against Yuri’s shoulder, face burning. “Don’t say things like that. Everyone we know already thinks I’m corrupting you.” 

“But Beka, I love it so much when you _corrupt me_ ,” Yuri practically purred, running his fingers through the back of Otabek’s hair and drawing him back into another kiss, all tongue and teeth and spit that left them both panting when they broke apart so that he could yank his shirt off and throw it in a random direction. 

Otabek stared for a moment at the jewelry adorning Yuri’s nipples, shiny silver barbells with purple gemstones on the ends. He stroked one of them gently and Yuri’s breath caught in his throat. “Does that hurt?” He asked, curious. It wasn’t something he’d ever really considered, having random pieces of metal jammed through any part of his anatomy.

“No, it’s good,” Yuri said, voice lighter than usual, “just sensitive. It’s kind of the point.” 

Otabek nodded and ran his fingertip over the barbell again, and then twisted it experimentally, relishing Yuri’s soft moan and shudder under his touch. He wanted to lick and suck at the piercings, to see what sounds he could pull from Yuri’s beautiful mouth. Instead, he pressed a kiss to the side of Yuri’s neck, just above the curve of his shoulder and bit down lightly, still playing with the piercing. He knew better than to leave visible marks during the season, but he also knew how responsive Yuri’s neck was to stimulation.

“Don’t start anything you aren’t going to finish,” Yuri said with a pleased sigh, tilting his head to give better access despite his words. “I’ve been jerking off morning and night anymore, I’ve missed you so damn much.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Otabek murmured against the skin just below Yuri’s ear, and then he nipped at the sensitive skin there, earning him a little moan in return. “But I’m not fucking you right before a competition, you know that.” That was something they'd negotiated early in the physical aspect of their relationship. It wasn’t likely to matter, they both knew that, given proper preparation and the use of lube - but it also wasn’t something either of them were willing to risk. 

“I don’t care how you get me off as long as you do it.” Yuri shifted his body around so that he had a better angle to push one strong leg against the growing bulge in Otabek’s jeans. “But you had better fuck me Sunday night.”

“What if I want you to fuck me instead?” Otabek asked, and captured Yuri’s lips in another kiss, open-mouthed and demanding this time, heat rushing through his body as their tongues stroked against each other, and he pinched at one of Yuri’s nipples again, drawing another soft moan against his mouth.

“Winner picks the position,” Yuri suggested, a little breathless, and Otabek chuckled lightly. 

“I can live with that,” he replied, still idly playing with the jewelry adorning Yuri’s chest. He really didn’t care who fucked who at the end of the weekend. “Right now I want to make you feel good.”

“Take your clothes off, then,” Yuri said, more than a little demanding. “I want whatever you want to do to me.” He ran one hand through the short shaved hair at the back of Otabek’s head, nails scraping roughly against his scalp, and pulled their mouths together once again, and the kiss was even more sloppy than before.

“Yes,” Otabek hissed roughly, and pulled his shirt off over his head to discard it by the side of the bed before finding Yuri’s lips once again. His cock twitched with excitement in his jeans - there was no small amount of anticipation on his part as well. “I want to put my mouth on you everywhere, is that okay?” 

“It’s fucking fantastic, Beka, get on with it,” Yuri said while Otabek twisted one of the nipple barbells just roughly enough to make him whimper at the end of the sentence. Little pleased noises escaped him as Otabek’s mouth closed over one of his nipples, sucking roughly at the hardened nub and tongue flicking over the barbell embedded there. 

Spurred on by the noise that Yuri made and the way he arched up against the stimulation, Otabek repeated the motion on the other nipple as his hands shoved Yuri’s track pants and briefs down past his hips all at once.

“You’re already so hard for me,” Otabek murmured, one hand squeezing Yuri’s cock briefly before he yanked the pants the rest of the way off and tossed them away. He settled himself between Yuri’s thighs and lowered his mouth to the firm muscles of Yuri’s abdomen, sucking firmly at the skin there, leaving a trail of little bites down to the arch of his hip bones. Visible marks may have been a hard no but he knew Yuri loved being marked up where no one could see. 

Otabek continued his ministrations until Yuri’s hips were rolling under him impatiently and little pleased whining sounds were filling the room. Finally, he flicked his tongue over the tip of Yuri’s cock, tasting the bit of fluid that had already gathered there, and began to lick up and down the length, looking up so he could watch Yuri’s face contort with pleasure. Once he decided he’d teased enough, he grasped the base of Yuri’s cock firmly and sucked the hard length into his mouth. One of Yuri’s hands tangled in Otabek’s hair, not pulling - yet, anyway - and a low moan escaped his throat as his hips thrust up. “Come on, Beka, more…”

Otabek smiled around Yuri’s cock, still looking up at him. It was a hell of a sight. He’d always thought Yuri was beautiful, but the new length to his limbs and the addition of more lean muscle mass made Otabek want to utterly worship his body. He dug the fingertips of his free hand into Yuri’s hip and scratched lightly at the pale skin, dragging his hand down to the muscle of Yuri’s thigh. 

Yuri groaned and pulled at Otabek’s hair roughly when Otabek swallowed his cock all the way down to the base with no warning. That has been expected – it was one of the things Otabek liked most about giving head, and his dick jumped in the confines of his jeans as Yuri yanked on his hair again, hips still rolling up off the bed. The sharp little twinges of pain were fantastic and only drove him on. 

When Otabek finally had to pull away long enough to breathe properly, Yuri made an angry whining sound and tugged sharply at his hair again. “Don’t stop, Beka,” he moaned, and the half-pleading, half-pissed-off tone was always more of a turn-on than Otabek had ever expected before they’d started sleeping together. 

“Give me a second to take my pants off,” he replied, and quickly discarded his jeans and underwear. Yuri watched him attentively, eyes lingering on his cock, and he smirked. “Like what you see, Yura?”

“You know I do, asshole, but if you don’t get back to sucking my dick I might kick you.” 

“You’re so hot when you’re pissed off.” Otabek stroked both hands firmly over Yuri’s thighs again as he rearranged himself between them, spreading those long legs to create a space for himself there. “And as much as I like sucking you off, I have another idea, if that’s okay.” 

“Does your other idea involve orgasms?” Yuri asked dryly. 

“Eventually.” Otabek bent his head back down and bit down firmly on the inside of one of Yuri’s thighs, sucking a bright red mark into the creamy skin. He repeated the motion in a couple of other spots, relishing the increasingly desperate sounds Yuri made. “I want you to feel these when you’re skating tomorrow,” he murmured, using his teeth on one of the marks he’d already left and flicking his tongue across the slight bruise he’d left there. “And once I’m done making sure you know you’re mine, I want to fuck your thighs while I make you come all over yourself.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Yuri groaned as Otabek’s left another swollen red welt on his skin. “Fine, whatever, Beka. Just make me come.”

“Let me get the lube, it will be easier.” Otabek jumped up from the bed to rummage in his suitcase. He really should have gotten this earlier, but he hadn’t expected to need it until later in the weekend. This had been a relatively spur-of-the-moment idea. Yuri was stroking himself with one hand by the time Otabek returned to the bed, and he watched for a moment, his own dick hard and leaking. He crouched between Yuri’s legs again and squeezed a copious amount of the slick substance into his hands before massaging it into the skin, paying special attention to the areas he’d marked up with his mouth, loving the fact that Yuri moaned and whimpered the entire time. 

“How do you want me?” Yuri asked, still gripping his cock.

“On your side,” Otabek said, “so I can do it from behind while I hold you against me.” They almost never had penetrative sex in that position, preferring face-to-face, but he really wanted to feel the length of Yuri’s firm body.

Yuri obliged the request and turned onto one side, and Otabek slicked up the length of his own dick before tossing the lube in the general direction of the nightstand. He pushed his dick between the cheeks of Yuri’s ass and dragged it over the tight hole there, teasing them both just a bit.

“You sure I can’t talk you into fucking me properly?” Yuri punctuated the words with a needy moan and pushed his ass back against Otabek’s dick. 

“You know better than that.” Otabek hoped he sounded more coherent than he felt, and he pushed himself into the tight heat between Yuri’s thighs, wrapping one arm around Yuri’s chest so he could pinch at the nipple piercings, and the other around his hips, holding him firmly as they both moved together. “Fuck, Yura, your body is so fucking fantastic,” he panted against the shell of Yuri’s ear.

“I’m glad somebody thinks so,” Yuri replied, but the sarcasm in his voice died as one of Otabek’s hands wrapped around his cock and stroked firmly from base to tip, squeezing around the head in the way that always made him lose his mind. “Keep doing that,” he demanded, and crossed his ankles and clenched the muscles of his thighs, creating more friction for Otabek to fuck into. 

Otabek groaned against the back of Yuri’s neck, lost in the combination of things he was feeling. The smell of Yuri’s hair, the feeling of those beautiful thighs clenched around his cock as he thrust his hips, the heat of Yuri’s arousal in his hand. It was all so much more overwhelming than he’d expected.

They moved together for several minutes, lost in the sensations, and it was all that Otabek could do to refrain from biting the back of Yuri’s neck and marking him in a place that everyone would see when he was competing. _Mine,_ the animal part of his brain insisted, but he shoved it aside.

It wasn’t long before Yuri was gasping and groaning in his embrace, and Otabek thrust harder, measuring the strength of his grip carefully, wanting them to come together. He almost managed it, but Yuri’s cock twitched in his hand, shooting streaks of fluid over his hand and Yuri’s abdomen, the loud cries of pleasure triggering his own climax just a moment later, making a mess of the powerful thighs he was sandwiched between. 

“I didn’t think that would be that fucking good,” Yuri said, panting, once they’d both recovered enough to think coherently again.

“Me either,” Otabek agreed, still holding Yuri close to him, disregarding the sweat and cum on their skin. “We’ll definitely have to do that again sometime.”

“But you’re still going to fuck me at the end of the weekend.” 

“Only if you win.” Otabek smirked against the back of Yuri’s neck. 

“Oh, you can count on that.” 


End file.
